Fraying At The Edges
by Katt9966
Summary: Sometimes we say yes when we want to say no.


Title: - Fraying At The Edges

Author: - Katt

E-mail: - FRM

Feedback: - Like it or loathe it let me know

Archive: - Archived at the Shield Fanfiction Archive

Warnings: - It's gonna be a dark, dark ficlet people.

Disclaimers: - I don't own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Fraying At The Edges

His fingernails scraped against the cool cotton sheet as he scrambled for purchase, for something to squeeze his pain into. Handfuls of sheet gripped so hard his knuckles turned white and bloodless, the tendons in his fingers pulling tight and painful under his skin.

A rough thrust driving so hard into him that his knees slip under him sliding out towards the sides as he's driven into the bed. Strong, bruising hands that hold his hips in an iron grip pull his ass back up in the air. Amongst all the other pain the sensation of the nails on those hands cutting into his flesh stands out stark and icy and screaming through his veins for just a moment, and his entire essence narrows down to those ten half moon shaped cuts.

Lowering his head he feels strangely exposed, as if he is offering the long, pale curve of the back of his neck in sacrifice. His hair flops forward over his face hiding his silent tears, hiding his lips coloured ruby red with blood oozing from bitten through flesh. Eyes and mouth squeezed shut keeping his anguish tightly inside.

He can feel every muscle in his body. All tense, hard, burning in exhaustion, but unable to relax, unable to surrender, unable to accept what is happening to him.

Vic had lied. He doesn't know why that thought should come as any surprise to him, but somehow it does. It hurts too. Deep inside where all his disappointments and betrayals lurk it feels as if a knife is twisting and turning in his soul. _Just another one to add to the collection – no big deal _his brain tells him, but it is a big deal to him. He'd thought…he'd hoped that maybe this time things would be different, maybe this time he wouldn't get hurt.

It's was why he'd held on for so long. It was why he made excuses for Vic's behaviour. Jesus, he was so needy, so desperate for warmth and companionship that he let himself be used.

He'd only protested half-heartedly that night when Vic had shoved him up against a wall and pushed his hands down his pants stroking his cock with sure, firm touches. Vic's husky voice whispering in his ear _"Come for me Dutchboy", _all it had taken to push him over the edge leaving him leaning up against the wall gasping for breath, his legs feeling like jelly, his brain reduced to an uncomprehending goo. When Vic had taken one of his still shaking hands and pressed it against the hard bulge in his jeans grinning and telling Dutch that it was his turn, Dutch didn't hesitate, didn't question, he just pulled down the zipper and reached inside.

The night Vic had grabbed his wrist as he had reached out take Vic's cock from his pants and had placed a forceful hand on his shoulder and pushed him down to his knees, Dutch hadn't protested then either. Dutch had gagged and choked on Vic's thick length as it had been thrust into his open mouth. He hadn't liked it, but the firm hand at the back of his head keeping him in place had checked the urge he'd had then to scramble away and say "No". He'd let Vic fuck his mouth and had urged and coughed around the bitter, slimy feel of his cum in his throat.

After that he'd always spend part of their time together on his knees, his jaw muscles aching, his throat gagging against the insistent invader that wouldn't stop until it found release. After he'd wiped his mouth against his sleeve Vic would pull him up and reach into his pants stroking him with that sure confident touch of his. Vic never went down on his knees, that wasn't how things were between them.

Then tonight Vic had said he wanted more. He'd hinted in that not-so-subtle way of his that if Dutch wouldn't cooperate that there were plenty of others that would. Dutch had known that was true and he didn't want to be alone. He wanted touch, connection to the rest of the world – he wanted to feel. So he'd said "yes" while every cell in his body screamed "no".

Vic had lied. He'd said this wouldn't hurt after the first burn of penetration. He'd said it would feel good. He'd said Dutch would enjoy it. He'd said that Dutch wanted it. But he'd lied.


End file.
